No Worse Than Any Man
by Erolyn
Summary: A bit of a character study between Jack and Norrington, and what happens when one's life is in the other's hands. Oneshot. Mild JA.


**_AN: _**So this is my first fanfic. Yay! I've been trying to work up the nerve to write a POTC fanfic for some time now. I've got a big one in the works, but I've only written a few scattered chapters, and that one won't be up for quite some time, if ever. Anyway, I got the idea for this little one-shot from Les Miserables. For those of you familiar with Les Mis, I was thinking about Valjean and Javert's scene in the musical, when Valjean sets Javert free (the title comes from a line in that song, if you couldn't tell). I was originally going to have Norrington kill himself, as Javert does, or at least ponder the situation for a long time and then quit the Navy or something, but I eventually cut the ending off and left it the way it is. Hope it's good anyway! I'll probably come back and edit this later, and maybe add that ending in, but for now, here it is.

No Worse Than Any Man

Commodore James Norrington was rather pleased with himself.

As he sat in his office musing over the day's events, he could hardly believe his good fortune. The pirate he'd been hunting for the past several years was behind bars once again, and this time it was highly unlikely that Norrington's fiancée would be stepping in on Jack Sparrow's behalf. Especially considering that said fiancée was, at the moment, non-existent. After Elizabeth had married the Turner boy, James had thrown himself into his position with the Navy and had spent very little time in pursuit of a replacement bride. But now that Sparrow was in his custody, it was likely he'd have a bit less work to do.

It was a quiet night, and it had been a quiet day, up until the moment Norrington had noticed an odd stranger emerging from the Turners' home. He paid a visit to Mrs. Turner once a month or so, when he was certain that the master of the house would not be at home, just to be sure she and her young daughter were safe. He felt he owed at least that to the memory of the late Governor Swann, the man who would have been his father-in-law. That day, he had decided to call at the house once again, and as his carriage pulled up the dirt drive he had seen the dark, swaggering man directly in his path. The man froze and turned to face him with a look that closely resembled that of a deer caught in the path of a team of horses. The Commodore had recognized Jack Sparrow at once. He had immediately ordered Gillette and Billings, the guards he made sure to keep with him when away from the safety of Port Royale's military base, to apprehend the pirate, and in the course of five minutes a rather angry Sparrow was a prisoner of the British crown.

James looked around the room. The commodore's office was situated so that he could see the docks of Port Royale from the window of the fort wall. He gazed out the window at the black calmness of the ocean at night. Sailing was something he'd also gotten to do much less of since being promoted from Captain to Commodore. After rescuing (rather, attempting to rescue) Elizabeth Swann from the pirates who had kidnapped her almost four years ago, he had had very few adventures at sea. He missed the ocean and ached for the feel of salt water on his skin. But power had its privileges and its constraints, and he knew he had earned his comfortable position in the British Navy. He considered that he might even be eligible for yet another promotion, after his successful apprehension of such a dangerous criminal.

Speaking of which, Sparrow had been lying in a cell for several hours now. Knowing the pirate's connections with the Turner family and his tendency to make what Norrington had to admit were often clever escapes, it occurred to him that he should make his way to the jail and check up on his prisoner. The Commodore calmly rose from his seat, removed his coat from its hanger, and began the ten-minute walk from his office to the jail.

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As Norrington descended the stone steps into the cold underground prison, the first thing he heard was a dull thump, like that of a body hitting the floor. He was on alert immediately, knowing that such a noise could only mean trouble with Jack Sparrow involved. Heart pounding, he crept quietly down the remaining steps and peered very, very carefully around the corner. What he saw was close to what he had expected to find. Three of his guards were lying unconscious on the hard floor, surrounded by several raggedy-looking men. A middle-aged, bearded man and a slender dark woman wearing men's clothing were focused on picking the lock on the jail cell in front of them. The woman seemed to be arguing with the prisoner on the other side of the bars.

Sparrow, of course. Norrington suddenly felt extremely foolish for basking in his glory when he should have spent his time here, with half of Port Royale's army, watching Sparrow night and day until his date with the gallows was set. Instead he had sat in his office, patting himself on the back while Sparrow's crew had been busy planning to free him. True, it was unusual for a crew of pirates to break their captain out of jail rather than mutiny and sail away with the ship, but Norrington had learned long ago that Jack Sparrow was no ordinary pirate. He felt like the world's biggest fool.

Wrapped up in his self-criticism, the Commodore had forgotten that his head was still sticking out from the stairwell. Oops. He snapped his head back into the entryway, hoping he hadn't been seen.

"'Ey! Wot was that?" exclaimed an angry voice from inside the jail.

No such luck.

Before he could attempt to escape, three rather dirty pirates had surrounded him, grabbed him by the arms, and dragged him into the prison where Sparrow and the rest of his crew were now standing. After a few moments of awkward silence, the escaped pirate broke the silence.

"Chain him to the brig, men," he snapped.

At once, the crew took the irons that had just been removed from their captain, pushed Norrington's body against one of the outer cell walls, and clasped the shackles around his hands so that he was chained to the bars of the prison. The girl strode up to him with fury in her eyes and placed the butt of a pistol against his head.

"That won' be necessary, Anamaria," interjected Sparrow, "Leave 'im to me."

Anamaria backed away, still boring her eyes into Norrington's skull. She seemed horribly familiar, but he could not place where he'd seen her before. Whoever she was, she held no fondness for him. If she was a member of Sparrow's crew, as she appeared to be, then she would certainly have no reason to. Norrington had been hunting the _Black Pearl _for years.

She turned to the rest of the pirates. "Alright men, back to the ship!" she commanded. So she was a high-ranking member of the crew, it seemed. That was highly unusual, considering that she was a woman. _"He's Captain Jack Sparrow, remember?"_ taunted a voice in Norrington's head. _"You shouldn't have been expecting the usual."_

His internal conversation was interrupted as the men noisily shuffled out of the jail and returned to the shore in whatever sneaky way they had used to get to the prison. The girl was last to leave. As she walked out, her gaze met Sparrow's, and the Commodore saw something pass between them that he was certain he was not supposed to have noticed. No woman had ever looked at him that way. That realization caught him slightly off balance. Feeling as though he had intruded, he turned and faced the ground. Anamaria muttered something quietly to Sparrow, and Norrington finally heard her footsteps leaving the room.

Hebrought his gaze back up to Sparrow, who was striding slowly towards him.

"Well, well. It seems as though the tables 'ave turned, don't it, James?"

"That's Commodore Norrington to you, Sparrow," he replied coolly.

"An' it's Captain Sparrow to you, mate," Jack grinned, "As your life is currently in my hands, I think I'll be the one decidin' what to call ye. Savvy?"

Norrington neither moved nor spoke. He was a well-trained military man, conditioned to be calm, calculating, and stoic in any situation. There had to be a way to get out of this. Any soldiers within hearing range would be dead by now, of that he was certain. The soldiers who had been on this watch were not scheduled to be relieved of their duties for another four hours. Instead, they had been relieved of their duties permanently. There was little chance of escape.

Sparrow pulled a pistol from his belt and turned it over in his hand. Was it the same one Norrington had taken from him the last time they had met in Port Royale? The one that legends claimed he had used to exact revenge against his former first mate Barbossa? The one that had only contained one shot?

_So he bought more, idiot._

Norrington heard the click of the gun being aimed. It seemed Sparrow had, indeed, gotten more shot. The pirate had swung open the door of the cell and was now standing, from what James could devise, directly behind him. He laid his head back against the bars and took a deep breath, knowing it would likely be his last. He was not afraid to die, merely ashamed that he was to die for such a careless mistake, and at the hands of a pirate, instead of bravely in the middle of battle. He had little to live for, and as what was left of his reputation would have been demolished had he let Sparrow escape again, he did not feel he would be much worse off dead. It did irritate him that the pirate had chosen to kill him from behind. From what he knew of Jack Sparrow, he would have expected the captain to want to look his prisoner in the eye as he died, instead of shooting him in such a low, cowardly manner. But what more could one expect from a pirate? Norrington swallowed, shut his eyes, and gritted his teeth, waiting for the sound of the shot that would end his life.

It came.

He waited to feel the pain, to feel the blood, to feel cold, to feel anything – but nothing happened. He shook his arm. Immediately he noticed that his shackles were no longer wrapped around the bars of the cell. Instead, two halves of a broken, smoking chain hung from the iron clasps around his wrists.

Sparrow had shot through it.

Wait…Sparrow had… _freed _him?

Norrington spun around to face the pirate, who was standing behind him still, gun in hand, with a morbid glint in his dark eyes.

"Go on, then, Commodore. Before I change me mind."

Norrington didn't understand. The man was a pirate. The scourge of the seas. He had killed countless other men, robbed innocents, broken more laws than Norrington could count…why would he not kill the man who had hunted him for years, the man who was a threat to his life, his livelihood, and all he held dear? It didn't make sense.

"Why?" he blurted.

Sparrow turned back around to face him, as if he had forgotten the Commodore's presence completely in the past few seconds. "Why what?"

"Why spare my life?"

The pirate moved toward him, coming much closer than Norrington would have liked. He stared the Commodore directly in the eye and replied, "You sparedmine once. Consider us even."

Actually, that was a bit of exaggeration. James would most certainly have hanged Sparrow if it hadn't been for Will Turner's rescue attempt, Elizabeth's silent plea, and the Governor's suggestion that he not chase after the _Black Pearl_ right away. He had let the pirate go reluctantly, because he had been asked to. Sparrow had just freed Norrington without hesitation, without prompting, and certainlywithout personal benefit.

"You realize that I'm still going to try to have you hung, don't you?" James asked, wondering if Sparrow was really as insane as some claimed he was.

"Aye."

"And you understand that I will not let you sail away from this port without trying to capture your ship?"

"You wouldn' be much of a Navy man if you did."

"You don't want any favors in return? No bargaining? Nothing?" There had to be an ulterior motive. With thieves, there was always an ulterior motive.

"Well, I would be much obliged if you'd do your best to protect the Turner household, but your freedom doesn't rest on that condition, no."

That seemed an odd request. "I already do protect them."

"Then there's nothing I want from ye. And I'm rather anxious to get back to my ship, so I'd advise you once again to be on your way, Commodore."

Norrington was still unsatisfied. Why would Sparrow ask him to look after the Turners? He knew the pirate was a friend of theirs, but he couldn't see why he would care enough about them or anyone else in their home enough to request such a thing of his enemy.

At that moment, James remembered where he had seen the girl Anamaria before.

On his last visit to see Elizabeth, he had run into her in the parlor. Elizabeth had explained that she was a servant, and that the infant on her arm was her son, a nursemate of the Turners' daughter Maria. Norrington hadn't understood then why the girl had acted so nervous when he had walked in, but had thought little of it since then.

The pieces began to fall together. The girl was no servant. She was Jack Sparrow's crewmate and lover. And the boy...was his child. He had come back to see them, and perhaps to bring her back with him.

Suddenly he understood. Suddenly he had collateral. Something to bargain with. The infamous pirate's secret, illegitimate bastard, living right under Norrington's nose. One word to the Governor or the Admiral, one quick order and he could have the baby killed. With this threat, he could make Sparrow do whatever he wanted. The worst thorn in the British navy's side was now putty in the hands of Commodore James Norrington.

"Your son," he blurted out, unable to contain his realization.

Sparrow whirled around yet again. This time, the look on his face was one of anger. Anger and fear.

"What did you say?" he growled.

"The mulatto girl. The one who just left, who was staying with Elizabeth Turner. The baby she had with her at the Turners' house is your son, isn't he?"

Jack's face fell. It was clear that he knew he had been defeated. He stood in anguished silence for a few moments before he spoke.

"What do you want from me, Norrington?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Norrington thought for several seconds, and replied, "The very same thing you just asked of me. Nothing."

It was now the pirate's turn to look confused.

"The boy is safe in Port Royal as long as I have the authority to keep him so. My lips are sealed," Norrington continued.Before Jack could speak, the Commodore explained, "His life for mine, Sparrow. We are even yet again."

"You don't 'ave to do that," Jack protested.

"You didn't have to let me go," James replied.

"Well, then I believe we've reached an impasse."

"So it would seem."

Norrington turned and glanced at the open jail cell.

"Now, if you will excuse me, Mr. Sparrow. I have heard that the _Black Pearl _is docked near Port Royal at this very moment, and I would hate not to see her at the bottom of the ocean."

Sparrow grinned.

"It will be a pleasure to deny you that pleasure, as always, Commodore."

FIN


End file.
